39. Extended Epilogue
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
ERIK
T he Maldivian sun hangs low over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of crimson that seem impossible, like something from a dream. I've seen sunsets from military bases across three continents and witnessed beauty in places torn apart by war, but this moment is unparalleled.
Nothing compares to watching the sunset with her.
Katarina lies beside me on the white sand, her skin golden from three days of paradise.
The sarong she wore over her bikini has been discarded somewhere behind us, leaving her in that scrap of emerald fabric that drives me to distraction.
She's propped on her elbow, tracing lazy patterns on my chest with one finger.
“I never thought I'd be the type of woman who goes on honeymoons to tropical islands,” she murmurs, her voice soft with contentment.
“What type did you think you were?”
She tilts her head, considering. “The type who works through vacations. Who schedules romance like board meetings.”
I catch her wandering hand, pressing it flat against my heartbeat. “And now?”
“Now I think I could stay here forever.” Her smile is radiant and unguarded. “Just you, me, and room service that doesn't ask questions when we don't leave the villa for eighteen hours straight.”
The memory of those eighteen hours sends heat coursing through me.
Mrs. Ivanov has proven to be even more insatiable than I believed possible, and that's saying something.
Marriage has unleashed something in both of us—a hunger that feels bottomless, desperate, like we're both still afraid this might disappear.
“I love you,” I tell her, wanting her to hear it again, even though I've whispered it against her skin a hundred times since we arrived.
Her eyes soften. “I love you too, husband.”
Husband. The word still sends a shock through my system.
She shifts against me, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. “The water looks inviting,” she says, but there's something in her tone that makes me look down at her.
Her green eyes hold that familiar glint—the same one she wore that first night in her cell when she was testing my control.
“I think I'm going for a dip,” she continues, sitting up gracefully. The movement makes her hair cascade over one shoulder, and I have to grip the sand to keep from reaching for her.
That look. Christ, that look could bring me to my knees.
Katarina stands and walks toward the water in that deliberate way that tells me she knows exactly what she's doing to me. The emerald bikini bottom rides low on her hips, and I watch the gentle curves of her ass as she steps into the crystal-clear waves.
She wades in until the water reaches her thighs, then turns to glance back at me over her shoulder. That fucking look again is a filthy invitation.
I'm on my feet before conscious thought kicks in.
The warm water laps at my legs as I close the distance between us. She doesn't try to escape, just watches me approach with those blue eyes dancing with mischief. When I reach her, my hands find her waist, and I pull her back against me in one fluid motion.
My erection presses against the soft curve of her ass, and she melts into me immediately. The contact sends fire racing through my veins, every nerve ending lighting up like I've been electrified.
“Erik,” she breathes.
The sound breaks something inside me. Something that was barely holding together anyway.
She pushes back against me, grinding slowly, and a low moan escapes her throat. That sound—fuck, that sound ruins me completely.
My arms tighten around her waist as I bury my face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in. Salt air and sun-warmed skin and that scent that's purely her. She tilts her head to give me better access, and I press open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot below her ear.
“You're playing with fire,” I growl against her throat.
She arches into me, pressing her ass more firmly against my hardness. “Good thing I like getting burned.”
The water moves around us in gentle swells, but all I can focus on is the way she feels in my arms. The way she responds to every touch, every whispered word.
My wife.
She reaches back to tangle her fingers in my hair, holding me to her as I trail kisses down her neck. Another soft moan vibrates through her chest, and I'm completely undone.
My hands slide up her torso, palming her breasts through the thin fabric of her bikini top. She arches into my touch, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.
“Fuck, you're perfect,” I growl against her ear. “My perfect little wife.”
Her breathing turns ragged as I roll her nipples between my fingers, the salt water making everything slick and sensitive. She grinds back against me harder, desperate for friction.
“Erik, please,” she whimpers.
“Please, what?” I nip at her earlobe, making her shiver. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you inside me. Now.”
The desperation in her voice makes my cock throb painfully against the confines of my swim shorts. I reach down with one hand, pushing the fabric of her bikini bottom aside while the other continues to tease her breast.
“So fucking wet already,” I murmur as my fingers find her cunt. “Is this from the ocean or from thinking about me fucking you in the middle of paradise?”
“You,” she gasps, her head falling back against my shoulder. “Always you.”
I slide two fingers into her, and she moans, her body clenching around me. The water provides cover as my thumb finds that sensitive bundle of nerves.
“That's it, baby,” I whisper in her ear. “Let me feel how much you need this. How much you need your husband's hands on you.”
She pushes back against my touch, riding my fingers with increasing urgency. I can feel her walls fluttering around me, getting closer to the edge.
“Not yet,” I command, withdrawing my hand. She whimpers at the loss, but I'm already freeing myself from my shorts.
I want to feel every tremor of your release while buried deep inside you,” I tell her, my voice a ragged whisper against her skin. “There's nothing like watching you shatter while your cunt grips my cock.”
I spin her around in one fluid motion, the water swirling around us as she faces me. Without hesitation, I grip her thighs and lift her, the water making her weightless in my arms.
“Wrap your legs around me,” I command, my voice rough with need.
She obeys immediately, her thighs clamping around my hips as her arms circle my neck.
“God, you're beautiful, kiska ,” I breathe, taking in her flushed face and the way her wet hair frames her features. “My wife. Mine.”
“Yours,” she whispers, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “Always yours.”
I line myself up with her entrance, feeling her slick warmth beckoning me. Then I slam inside her in one devastating thrust, burying myself to the hilt.
“Fuck!” she cries out, her head falling back as her body stretches to accommodate me.
The feeling of being completely sheathed inside her while the ocean moves around us is indescribable.
“So fucking tight,” I growl, my grip on her thighs tightening as I begin to move. “Even after three days of me stretching this pretty little cunt, you still grip me like a vice.”
She moans at my words, her walls clenching around me in response. I pull out almost completely before driving back into her, each thrust making the water splash around us.
“You are my world,” she gasps between my relentless strokes. “I love you so much it hurts.”
Those words—Christ, those words destroy me every time. I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans as I fuck her harder.
“You’re taking my cock so beautifully. You were made for this—made for me.”
Her nails rake down my back as she meets each of my thrusts, her hips moving in rhythm with mine. The sun continues its descent toward the horizon, bathing us in golden light as we claim each other.
I feel her getting close, the way her pussy starts to tighten around me, her breathing becoming more erratic.
“Erik,” she gasps against my lips. “I'm going to?—”
“I know, baby. I can feel you.” I adjust my angle, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out. “Let go for me.”
Her walls flutter around my cock, and I know she's right on the edge. I reach between us, finding her clit with my thumb and rubbing tight circles.
“Come for me, Katarina. Come on your husband's cock.”
She shatters with a broken cry, her body convulsing around me as waves of pleasure crash over her. The feeling of her coming undone pushes me over the edge, and I follow her into oblivion with a guttural groan.
“Fuck, yes,” I growl as I empty myself inside her. “Take it all.”
We stay locked together as the aftershocks roll through both our bodies, the gentle waves of the ocean rocking us in their embrace. Her forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard.
“I never want to leave this place,” she whispers, her voice soft and vulnerable in the fading light.
“Then we won't.” I press a tender kiss to her lips. “We'll stay here forever. Just you and me.”
She laughs, the sound pure and joyful. “Your brothers would murder us both if we never came home.”
“Let them try.” I trace my thumb along her jawline. “Right now, nothing exists except this. You and me in our own world.”
Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but they're happy ones. “Who would have thought my kidnapper would become my entire universe?”
I cup her face in my hands. “You saved me, Katarina. From myself, from the darkness. You made me believe I could be more than just a weapon.”
“We saved each other,” she corrects softly.
I lower us both into the water, settling her against my chest as we float together. The sun dips closer to the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and purples. Her head rests on my shoulder, her body relaxed and pliant against mine.
“I love you, Mrs. Ivanov,” I murmur against her hair.
We drift there in the warm embrace of the sea, holding each other as paradise surrounds us.
I hold her closer as the waves rock us gently, my mind still reeling from the impossibility of it all. Six months ago, if someone had told me I'd be floating in the Maldivian ocean with my wife—my fucking wife—I would have put a bullet between their eyes for the sheer audacity of the lie.
But here she is. Wearing my ring and my name like they were always meant to be hers.
The irony isn't lost on me. I spent years taking what I wanted through force, violence, and intimidation. I built my entire existence around the premise that love was a weakness, that attachment was a liability that would get you killed.
Then I kidnapped this woman.
Bound her to a fucking bed because I couldn't trust myself not to touch her.
And somehow, in the twisted mathematics of our impossible situation, she fell in love with me anyway. Not in spite of who I am but because of it.
Most people search their entire lives for their other half. They go on endless dates, swipe through apps, and attend singles events, all desperately hoping to find that one person who completes them. They follow all the rules, do everything right, and still come up empty.
Me? I found my soulmate by breaking every rule that exists.
I should feel guilty about the circumstances.
Should be tortured by the knowledge that our love story started with her captivity.
But watching her now—the way she smiles at me like I hung the fucking stars, the way she trusts me completely despite everything—I can't bring myself to regret a single moment.
Maybe we were always meant to find each other this way. Maybe the universe knew that conventional paths would never work for people like us. She needed someone who could match her fire, who wouldn't be intimidated by her brilliance or try to dim her light.
We're both damaged goods, products of a world that doesn't believe in happy endings. But somehow, we fit together like two broken pieces that form a whole.
The sun continues its descent, casting everything in gold, and I've never felt luckier in my entire fucking life.
Thank you so much for reading Chain Me, the third book in the Beautiful Monsters series. I hope you enjoyed following Erik and Katarina’s story.
The fourth and final book will be Hunt Me, following Alexi and Iris. The pre-order is scheduled for the 21st of November, but I’m hoping to bring it forward. This will be the latest date it will be published.
Hunt Me: A Dark Mafia Romance
I've made a career of being invisible. Until I met him.
Alexei Ivanov. The "Ghost" of the dark web. Digital prince of the Ivanov crime empire. Brilliant. Volatile. Irresistible.
Breaking into his systems was supposed to be revenge. Instead, I found an addiction. Each breach calculated, each taunt deliberate—digital breadcrumbs leading him straight to me.
He thinks he's hunting me, but I've been hunting him all along.
As our game spills from screens into reality, the electricity between us becomes impossible to ignore. The line between predator and prey blurs with every encounter.
They say never bait a monster unless you're prepared to be devoured.
I'm counting on it.
Hunt me, Alexei. If you can.